


Ares

by aislingdoheanta



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Gen, M/M, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Reporter Grantaire, Writer Grantaire, superhero Enjolras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 15:13:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5095340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aislingdoheanta/pseuds/aislingdoheanta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras has a secret identity he's never told anyone about. It might just come to light now that Grantaire is in charge of finding out all he can about the masked vigilante, Ares.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ares

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rthecynic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rthecynic/gifts).



> This was written for rthecynic for the Les Mis Holiday Exchange Halloween 2015 round. They asked for "Superhero AU - preferably with superhero!Enjolras and reporter!Grantaire, but otherwise do anything you like with it. No character death please." 
> 
> It went a little bit stranger than I intended, but I hope you like it!
> 
> Ares is inspired by Daredevil from the Marvel comics. 
> 
> TW: There's a brief mention of violence and harassment but it's not graphic.

Enjolras knew that he should be happy for Grantaire because this was his first big break as an investigative journalist, but it was difficult. Grantaire’s first big story was on him— _Ares_. (It was a name that had been thrown around. Not like anyone ever asked him what he preferred.)

It’s a secret that Enjolras has kept for years.

It happened years ago, when he was still a child. There was a chemical accident, with some sort of gas in the air. Enjolras had been exposed to it and had been taken to the hospital. He’d been given a clean bill of health, so clean that it was as though nothing had even happened. Their best guess was that the gas wasn’t toxic at all.

Enjolras had believed them until later, when he started feeling the effects. It was a long and painful process, something that no one had been around to witness. He’d been only fourteen at the time and his parents gone away for a weekend event somewhere.

Enjolras’ body changed. His senses were heightened, especially his hearing and touch. He was now able to hear things that were miles away—things he shouldn’t be able to hear. As for tactile things, it was almost as though they were alive to Enjolras when he touched them. Almost like he could feel every particle making up the object.

It was overwhelming to say the least.

Enjolras had tried to ignore that because there wasn’t anything he could do about it anyway. Then he got to university.

He hadn’t meant to become a masked vigilante. It had actually happened on accident. He’d been walking home when he’d heard a girl being harassed a few blocks away, though she was trying to ignore it. Enjolras decided to go and make sure she was okay.

He gotten there with his red scarf on and he fought them . All three of them. It was like he had an out-of-body experience, his body, his _senses_ just took over while Enjolras watched on the sidelines. He watched the girl run away and the other men crumple to the ground after a few particularly well-placed jabs.

It was like his body just knew what to do.

That was the night _Ares_ was born. He was a figure of justice and protection; a figure in red. No one had gotten a good look at Enjolras’ face, something he ended up being happy about in the long run. He wanted his political and societal ideas to be listened to and celebrated because of _what_ he was saying, not because of what he did in his spare time.

Even so, Enjolras took to training his body as well as his mind over the next two years. He became something, someone he never thought he’d ever become, because the people wanted him to.

They wanted Ares. So Enjolras did just that.

And he’d kept his secret for years, even from his friends because he didn’t want them to ever be put in danger because of him. So he’d leave events early and was always studying—he was just lucky that his body didn’t need as much sleep as other people.

But now, with Grantaire about to be on the hunt for information on Ares, and Enjolras’ secret might just end up revealed.

Enjolras searched the room for Grantaire and was surprised to see him sitting by himself. He was the only person, beside Enjolras, who didn’t seem to be celebrating.

Enjolras walked over to where Grantaire was sitting and took the empty seat next to him.

“Why aren’t you celebrating?” Enjolras asked him quietly. “I thought you’d be excited for this?”

Grantaire snorted. “Excited that my first big case is following around a masked vigilante who thinks he’s saving the city? Not really my cup of tea, Apollo.”

Enjolras frowned. “I know. But they asked for you, didn’t they? Doesn’t that count for something?”

“Not really.”

Enjolras looked at him. “What’s wrong with this assignment? So you take a couple of pictures of the person.”

“Yeah, and then what? They’re going to expect me to hunt down this person and force them to out themselves because that’s what going to sell. And then I’ll be fired when I don’t do that,” Grantaire said.

Enjolras swallowed. “You wouldn’t out them?”

Grantaire leveled him with a look. “Of course not. It’s not my secret to tell.”

“But you think they’re a fool who’s going to get themselves killed,” Enjolras argued.

“True,” Grantaire agreed. “But doesn’t mean I don’t understand where they’re coming from. Or why they might want to keep their day-to-day life.”

Enjolras looked down at his fidgeting hands.

“I just don’t want to be in a position that could end up ruining someone’s life,” Grantaire said quietly. “That’s not what I set out to do when I decided to follow writing and journalism instead of art. I wanted to write pieces that matter. Pieces that make people think.”

“Maybe they can help you,” Enjolras suggested.

Grantaire laughed and squeezed Enjolras’ shoulder. “Maybe they’ll be another you! Another revolutionary desperate to move me to their side.”

Enjolras felt his ears burn but clenched his jaw, feigning nonchalance. “Well if they do agree with me, maybe I’m more right than you give me credit for.”

“Or maybe they’re you,” Grantaire suggested with a wink. “Or you have them on your payroll.”

“I don’t have a payroll,” Enjolras shot back.

“Well, we don’t know that for sure, do we?” Grantaire said.

They lapsed back into silence for a while before Grantaire broke it.

“You know they’re excited because they all idolize this ‘Ares’ person,” Grantaire said, using the appropriate finger quotes. “I feel like they don’t understand the position I’m being put in.”

“They see this as your big break,” Enjolras said. “They’re happy for you.”

“And you?”

“I’m happy for you too,” Enjolras admitted quietly. “And I think it’s going to work out in your benefit.”

“Ever the optimist,” Grantaire scolded.

“It’s easy to be optimistic when you’re constantly surrounded by a pessimist,” Enjolras said back to him.

“Realist, Enjolras. I’m a _realist._ Not a pessimist,” Grantaire corrected.

“Semantics,” Enjolras waved off with a smile.

Grantaire gasped and dramatically placed his hand over his heart. “I never thought I’d see the day that Enjolras suggested that semantics was not important.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes as Grantaire laughed.

“R!” Feuilly called from the bar. “Come on! Marius bought a round!”

“I’m coming!” Grantaire shouted back.

“Nice work, Enjolras!” Courfeyrac said from Feuilly’s side.

“I always thought R wouldn’t last very long with Enjolras,” Eponine chimed in.

Enjolras felt his face burn and looked down.

Grantaire laughed. “You okay?”

“Of course,” Enjolras said.

“You coming for another drink?” Grantaire stood up and reached out a hand to Enjolras.

“No. I actually have to get back because—“

“There’s a speech you’re working on for your upcoming rally,” Grantaire finished for him. “I know.”

“Oh,” Enjolras said. He hated that they had so quickly fallen back into this strange limbo between friends and not-friends when they had just been balancing between friends and friends-who-might-possibly-want-to-be-more.

“Hey, um. I just wanted to thank you,” Grantaire said. “I really appreciate what you said and talking with me. About this whole thing.”

“Of course, Grantaire,” Enjolras said.

“I’m going to take a page out of your book,” Grantaire admitted. “I’m going to believe that this will work out in the end.”

Enjolras smiled. “I have a feeling it’s going to. You’re an excellent writer and they’re all going to see that. If they don’t already.”

Grantaire smiled shyly.

“Well,” Enjolras said awkwardly. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah. See ya. Don’t work yourself too hard,” Grantaire told him.

Enjolras nodded but didn’t promise him anything. Enjolras never gave his word unless he intended to try and keep it.

* * *

It wasn’t until a few weeks later that Grantaire finally got to meet Ares. It took Enjolras a few weeks to calm his nerves enough to suggest a meeting with Grantaire.

“A roof at midnight?” Grantaire asked from where he was lounging against the wall looking out over the Seine. “Bit cliché, isn’t it?”

“I like to think of it as making a statement,” Enjolras said, pitching his voice a bit lower than normal.

“Ah. You have a flair for dramatics,” Grantaire said, whipping out a small notebook. “I will make sure to include that in your profile.”

“I hope that you don’t,” Enjolras said.

“Why?” Grantaire asked.

Enjolras sighed. “What I do. It’s not something I ever wanted people to know about.”

“So you really are just a regular Captain America? Fighting the good fight because it’s right?” Grantaire asked.

“Well, I’m French and live in Paris, so maybe not Captain America,” Enjolras argued. “But yes.”

Enjolras walked over to the edge where Grantaire was leaning and sighed. “I never actually wanted to be this person, you know.”

Grantaire turned his attention back to the river. “You know I’m a reporter, right? Whatever you tell me is going to go into my story.”

“You’re a good judge of character,” Enjolras told him. “I think you and I can come to some sort of arrangement. A partnership, if you will.”

“What do you have in mind?” Grantaire said.

“I know writing about me isn’t the greatest job for such a competent and thoughtful writer,” Enjolras told him.

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” Grantaire winked at him.

Enjolras felt annoyed because Grantaire wasn’t flirting with _him_ , he was flirting with Ares. That only made him annoyed at himself for being annoyed.

“It’s not flattery if it’s the truth. The piece you wrote on the underlying causes of why democracies fail was amazing. The way you compared and contrasted the ancient Romans with the modern day equivalents was a great way to show the general flaws in that form of government,” Enjolras told him.

“You helped a lot of people understand where changes need to occur if we want to have a successful government,” Enjolras admitted.

Grantaire started at him for a minute, his brow furrowed. “To be honest, I wrote that to annoy my friend. He’s pro-democracy and seems to think that democracies are the only way to govern.”

“Your friend sounds smart,” Enjolras said.

“He’s naïve,” Grantaire argued. “He doesn’t understand that people are selfish.”

“’You can’t count on people making decisions for the good of the country because they will inherently only focus on whatever benefits them,’” Enjolras quoted.

“You really did read my article,” Grantaire said, his eyes wide.

“I think you had some good points. It’s why I want to work with you.”

Grantaire crossed his arms. “Writing political fluff pieces?”

“No,” Enjolras said. “Writing about things that are really happening, right now, in this city. In this country. There’s too much that goes unmentioned. We need to stop it.”

Grantaire sighed. “And what do you expect me to do about it?”

“Write about it,” Enjolras said. “I could help you get back to what you want to write about. Pieces that get people thinking and talking.”

Grantaire studied him. “What are you getting out of this deal?”

“I’m getting more privacy. I don’t want my real identity out. I’m hoping, if we’re working together, you’ll utilize some discretion when talking about me in your articles,” Enjolras said.

“I’m not going to be your mouthpiece,” Grantaire said. “I’ll write about the stories you leak to me, but I’m not going to do it blindly.”

“The facts—“

“Will be included, but so will my opinion on them,” Grantaire said. “I want to believe in what I write. I want to stand behind it.”

“What makes you so sure that we won’t land on the same side of these issues?” Enjolras asked him.

“Let’s just say I’ve had a fair bit of practice with people like you,” Grantaire said. He didn’t elaborate.

“All right,” Enjolras said after a brief hesitation. “You have a deal.”

“Good.” Grantaire smiled at him.

“I suppose you’ll have to take your picture now,” Enjolras said, moving away from the wall and back to the fire escape.

“Yeah.” Grantaire snapped a few on his phone before rushing to lean over the railing.

“One more thing!” he hissed down to Enjolras. “Why ‘Ares?’ It seems a little extreme and dramatic, even for you.”

“One, you don’t even know me,” Enjolras argued. “And two, I didn’t come up with it.”

Grantaire just watched him, waiting.

“The first time I did this, I was wearing red and they described me as an Ares type. Honestly Ares doesn’t fit what I’m doing. I’m trying to bring justice to the world, not war,” Enjolras explained.

“You want to change it?” Grantaire asked.

“What do you have in mind?” Enjolras tapped his fingers against the cold iron.

“I’d have to get to know you a little better before I name you,” Grantaire said.

“Well, I look forward to seeing what you come up with.” Enjolras risked a small smile.

“How will I know when you want to meet?” Grantaire said.

Enjolras sighed and tugged out his burner phone from his pocket.

“Jesus,” Grantaire complained as Enjolras swiped his phone from his hand. “You are a dramatic one, aren’t you?”

Enjolras rolled his eyes as he programmed the phones correctly.

“There,” Enjolras handed Grantaire his phone back. “Contact is set up.”

“All right, thanks,” Grantaire said.

“If. If you ever get into trouble, you’ll call me,” Enjolras told him.

Grantaire nodded. “If I’m in trouble I can’t get out of, I will most definitely call you.”

“All right. Well. Good. Thanks,” Enjolras said.

“I look forward to a beautiful partnership,” Grantaire said with a mock salute.

Enjolras groaned to himself and just hoped that this was going to work out. For both of them.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [tumblr!](http://saras-almanac.tumblr.com/)


End file.
